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functional. Luckily someone had not only added some feminine touches, but had also supplied them with washcloths and towels. He hadn’t even thought about packing any. Again that was something Beryl normally did. He was a grown man, and knew how to pack. And anyway, it seemed to be turning out okay. There was fresh linen folded neatly on a shelf over the toilet, and next to the medicine cabinet, Travis saw a mini blow dryer hanging from a hook.
    Travis nodded his head. “This might actually be all right.” All he’d have to do was wash the underwear and dry it with the blow dryer. In no time at all he’d have a pair of clean underwear. Beryl’s attempts at trying to make him look bad weren’t going to work.
    He began humming a tune to the song “Lovely Day” by Bill Withers. He hummed the song throughout his shower and shave. And after washing and drying his only pair of underwear, he emerged from their room looking and feeling refreshed. That was until he rounded the corner to the dining room, and his eyes fell on the scowling face of his wife.
    Travis dropped his head and looked the other way. All of a sudden, his stomach dropped as if it were speeding a downward slope of a roller coaster at Disney World, going fifty miles per hour. His stomach was the only thing that felt like it was at Disney World, because the rest of his body felt like he was in a low budget horror movie, starring as the villain.
    â€œGood morning, Travis,” he heard the voice of Shelby call from the direction of the kitchen. Travis hoped the woman had witnessed the angry looks Beryl had shot toward him.
    â€œWould you like something to eat?” Shelby asked. Her voice was soft and sweet. Travis remembered a time when Beryl’s voice had been just as soft and sweet. Not now though. Now her voice was hard and gruff. He wondered when it had changed, but couldn’t put his finger on a specific time or date.
    â€œI’m not hungry right now,” Travis said. “My stomach is doing a few cartwheels.”
    Beryl rolled her eyes at him again and left the kitchen to sit in the living room.
    â€œDo you have anything to take?” Shelby asked with obvious concern. “We’ve got a first aid kit.”
    Beryl’s leaving the room had allowed the flipping of his stomach to subside. “Naw. It will probably pass with a little time.”
    â€œWe also have some ginger ale in the pantry if you need some,” Shelby offered.
    â€œThanks. If I need any, I’ll get some,” Travis said.
    He took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to pass the time and stay out of his wife’s way in the process.
    Phillip entered the kitchen with a coffee cup in his hand. “Good morning, Travis. How’d you sleep, man?”
    â€œOkay, I’d say. I guess I overslept.” Travis laughed.
    â€œI slept like a baby,” Phillip said. “You want some coffee?” he added while heading back to the coffee pot to pour another cup.
    â€œNah. My stomach’s been doing a few cartwheels.”
    With concern on his face Phillip asked, “Sorry to hear that, man. You need to take something?” He looked to his wife. “Shelby, do we have anything for an upset stomach?”
    Shelby answered, “Yeah, I already asked him if he needed anything.”
    â€œSorry, babe. I should have known.” He turned his attention back to Travis. “You know my wife’s a nurse, right?”
    Travis shook his head. “No. I didn’t know that.”
    â€œIf you get sick, definitely let her know; only use me as a last resort.” Phillip chuckled.
    Travis nodded his head, and when Phillip headed back toward his bedroom, Travis was left to awkwardly stand in the area between the dining and living room. With the “Lovely Day” song still running through his head, he stepped closer to the living room. Hoping for the best, he attempted a conversation with Beryl.